


A Very Special Tour Of Bad Decision Lane

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron)-centric, M/M, POV Hunk (Voltron), The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 18:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hunk is a tour guide for Altea University, which means he's usually stuck with the freshmen. Usually they're not too bad. Today, he's got an older freshmen who will NOT stop flirting with him. Oh what a terrible, terrible shame.





	A Very Special Tour Of Bad Decision Lane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tiredgaykeith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredgaykeith/gifts).



                It took _guts_ to do his job, thought Hunk with a very serious nod to the mirror as he adjusted his cap, rubbed the last few streaks of sunscreen into his burly arms, and triple-checked his stack of papers. Not everybody could handle it. They’d had three people wash out already. That was just the nature of the game. Not everybody was up for dealing with the cruel late August-early September sun, the long days…

                …or the freshmen. The freshmen’s parents were the worst part. Hunk shuddered a little, and then tucked his handful of campus guides into his duotang. He was _ready._

Some people might have commented that viewing the generally-40-plus parents of prospective Altea University freshmen as akin to most rainforest carnivores was a tad unfair, also perhaps a little rude. Hunk would have told said people to try being a campus guide for a month and see how they felt about rainforests afterwards.

                Still, it was a job, and it was a good job, and despite the, er, _pitfalls,_ Hunk enjoyed it. It didn’t stop the little shudder when he stepped outside and realized he’d gotten stuck with the _small_ group – but it helped. Sort of. Small groups were the worst. Big groups you could just preach to. Small groups tried to get friendly. Intimately so. And Hunk was good at friendly at a distance, but once people started crowding him, reading the monogram on his shirt and asking “Can I call you Hunk?” he had a much harder time not laying somebody out flat on their back. And _that_ was just bad for the university’s image.

                “Hello everybody! Welcome to Altea University – My name is Aleki Garrett and I’ll be your guide this afternoon!” Time for the spiel. Hunk opened his mouth – and found himself distracted. Most of the freshmen were normal, or whatever passed for it; pimply, lanky teenagers, some with too much makeup, some with none, some so festooned with acne that he could have played Whack-A-Mole with it – and their parents were the forty-year-old equivalents, all wearing their middle age like badges of pride. But at the edge of the small group, perhaps five or six on total, was somebody a little older, who’d outgrown the awkward giraffe stage and was instead in the lanky-young-adult-oh-god-help-me stage. Altea got more of those than people usually reckoned; more and more people were taking gap years, victory laps, so on so forth.

                The thing is, Hunk didn’t usually get them on tours. It just got a little weird trying to do his Tour Guide voice to somebody closer to his age.

                But, he’d manage. He opened his mouth and managed to spin off his spiel, although with a little less customer-service spiel than usual. “…and if you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the first stop on our tour, Glengarry Residence!”

                He turned and started the walk. A few moments later, the older student parted from the crowd and fell into step with him, although still clearly taking his cues from Hunk on where to go.

                “…So what’s your name?” Hunk asked. The prospective student glanced up at him from under the bangs escaping from his messy bun, then laughed, pulling a few strands out of his face.

                “Keith.” He gave Hunk’s nametag a glance. “Your tag doesn’t say Aleki.”

                “Oh.” Hunk pulled a face. “Everybody else calls me Hunk. It just gets weird when _moms_ call me that.”

                “Hunk? Like –“

                “Yes, I _know._ ” Hunk tried not to splutter at the way Keith raised his eyebrow at him. “My moms came up with it. English is _not_ their first language.”

                Keith grinned. “It’s cute.”

                Uh oh.

                _You stop that right now,_ Hunk firmly told his chest. Being a bi boy at university was one thing. But he was _not_ picking up potential freshmen. That was not a thing that was happening. Definitely not.

                “So um, what are you looking at taking?”

                “Evobio.”

                “Ev- evolutionary biology?”

                “Yeah.” Keith shrugged. “I think it’s cool.”

                Hunk laughed. “Well, we probably won’t run into each other _too_ much. I’m a /// mechanical engineer.”

                “Woah. That’s pretty neat.”

                “Eh, well –“ Hunk brushed his hand through his hair, trying not to smile _too_ much. “It’s pretty tough.”

                “You must be pretty smart.”

                “I – I try.” Hunk was trying _very_ hard not to get flustered. How confident did somebody need to be to flirt with their _tour guide?_ “Oh – um – one sec –“ He turned around, trying to get his tour guide face back on. “Everybody, this is the Glengarry Residence! Most of you are in engineering or STEM programs, and we put students together by faculty to make sure they have something to talk about with their roommates. Glengarry is one of the three engineering residences –“

                A hand shot up. Hunk tried not to sigh outwardly. “Yes?”

                “Marcie needs a solo room. Is –“

                “That’s something to take to the registrar or the RAs. I-“

                “No, but you see, she gets terrible anxiety around others, and I just want to make sure-“

                “Mom,” the poor afflicted Marcie grumbled from behind her mother.

                “I’m just _asking._ ”

                Hunk managed to keep up his smile. “You’ll have to ask the registrar or RAs. We do have a few single rooms available for students with special needs.” Before the Terror Mother could start up again, Hunk continued. “We’re going to go take a walk through the residences and take a look at two of the rooms. Stay close and don’t wander off!”

                The saving grace, he had to admit, was the sarcastic look Keith was giving the back of Terror Mother’s head. Although it was quickly surpassed by Keith sidling up next to him and asking in a quietly mischievous voice, “So, ever seen Coraline?”

                “Are you comparing my tour people to a Neil Gaiman movie?”

                “You said it, not me.” Keith poked at his eyelids. “Don’t leave your eyes unprotected. Next thing you know they’ll be buttons.”

                Hunk had to stifle his laughter. It would have been unprofessional. “Do you think she knows the real reason her daughter wants a single room?”

                “So she can get laid?” drawled Keith. “Probably hasn’t occurred to her. Or it has and she’s angling for a grandchild one way or another.”

                “That’s a _terrible_ thing to say.”

                “Isn’t it?”

                They got to the residence room, and Hunk gripped the handle, ready to show it off –

                “Oh no,” he whispered.

                Keith cocked his head.

                “They locked it. They weren’t _supposed_ to lock it.” Hunk glanced over his shoulder – none of the others had noticed yet. He was screwed. He was so screwed. Years of perfect tours and now he was getting knocked off balance because of a locked door –

                Keith reached up, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he groped around in his bun. Two seconds later, he was holding a bobby pin. “Give me two seconds there, big guy.”

                Hunk couldn’t remember _telling_ Keith that he could call him big guy, but all the same, it sent another rush of colour to his cheeks. Dammit. _He_ was supposed to be the flirty one. Not that he was terribly successful at picking people up at the best of times, but it was the principle of the thing! He bought _other_ people drinks. This? This never happened.

                What also had to never happen, he noted with dawning horror, was university administration finding out that he’d let somebody who wasn’t even a student yet pick the lock of a dorm room. Still, a few moments later, the door swung open, and Keith pushed the bobby pin back into his hair with a smirk of accomplishment.

                “Good thing they left the door unlocked. Shame it’s so sticky,” he said with a bland look on his face.

                _You’re a brat,_ Hunk thought to himself, then continued on with the tour. He had a job to do, after all.

\---

                He’d almost – but not quite – forgotten about Keith once he was done his last tour of the day. It wasn’t that the guy wasn’t on his mind, but he was busy flopping onto one of the benches and staring miserably up at the salmon-coloured sky.

                “Hey, you.”

                Hunk lifted his head, and tried not to look _too_ pleased at the sight of Keith in front of him. “Keith!”

                “You know, I was going to leave, and then I realized you missed a _really_ important location on your tour.”

                “Oh?” Hunk felt a twinge of irritation. “What’s that?’

                “You haven’t shown me the closest bar. I’m old enough to drink, you know.”

                “Oh, _are_ you now?” Hunk sat up, leaning his arms on his knees and giving Keith an amused look. “And why should I show you a good time? Bar, I mean.”

                Keith reached up, taking down his bun, and Hunk tried to ignore the way he started sweating as his black hair fell down around his face. He was so _casual_ about it too. “I don’t know. I’m bored. And I’m _very_ curious about how somebody ends up with the nickname Hunk.” He smirked. “Not that you don’t earn it.”

                “You _are_ a brat.”

                “Well, yeah. So, bar?”

                Hunk got to his feet, sticking his hands into his pocket. “I suppose I have time for _one_ more tour. But you have to stick close, you hear me? Don’t run off and get yourself lost.”

                “Don’t worry.” Keith’s purple eyes glinted in the dusk light, the same colour as the darkening clouds. “I won’t.”


End file.
